Never Too Late
by August08
Summary: During a fight with the Purple Dragons and Foot, Leo is seriously injured and Don blames himself. Can one last effort on Leo's part save Don from his downward spiral into self destruction or will the family have to bury another member?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N**: This story was inspired by Never Too Late by Three Days Grace. Thanks to Amonraphoenix and Darkunderworld for beta-ing for me.

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing

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The night had started out innocently enough; a routine patrol to see if there was any crime that needed to be stopped, a quick game of ninja tag to keep them on their toes, and the random act of violence committed by the Purple Dragons that broke up said game of ninja tag. And so off they went, four brothers against the world.

With the passing of Splinter after their final battle against the Shredder -which put down the crime lord for good- the only thing the Turtles had left were each other. If one good thing had come from the loss of their father, it was that it had brought the Turtles closer together as a team and as brothers. Though no one could deny that it had been rough going for the first few months after Splinter's passing, they had managed to get through it.

Leonardo had tried to fill the role as leader and father, but with the "help" of Raphael he had quickly learned that they didn't need a replacement for Splinter, they needed a big brother and leader who had been trained for the day when they no longer had their father to guide them. It didn't mean that Raphael and Leonardo didn't fight, if anything they fought even more; however it was just Raphael's way of keeping his big brother grounded, and make sure whatever plan he came up with was the best plan. Of course Raphael would no doubt argue and not listen to a word Leonardo said anyway.

The arrangement worked, nonetheless. Donatello and Michelangelo would stay out of their brothers' way when they were "discussing" battle strategies, and would often bet on who would win the argument; with Donatello winning almost every time when the brother he picked would have the last word. This night Donatello had predicted that Raphael would get in the last word before charging off to confront the Purple Dragons. What Donatello hadn't been expecting was to find that the Purple Dragons were helping the Foot in an illegal weapons deal.

While his brothers took care of the Purple Dragons and the odd Foot ninja, Donatello made a mad dash for the computers. He quickly hacked into the server and it was a cake walk from there. When a Foot soldier got too close, Donatello would take him out and resume his efforts to mess with the finances of the deal that was about to go down. An evil grin crept across Donatello's face as he watched the computer crash and burn.

It was then that Donatello became eerily aware of what going on around him. A chill ran its icy fingers down the full length of his spine and Donatello turned around just in time to see a Purple Dragon throw what could have only been a pipe bomb in his direction. Raphael and Michelangelo were occupied just outside of the warehouse where they had been fighting, and Leonardo was nowhere to be seen. Donatello didn't have time to move as he watched the deadly cylinder fall towards him; his life flashing before his eyes as the bomb sailed closer and closer.

Suddenly, a streak of blue and green appeared in front of Donatello and there was the clink of metal against metal as a sword connected with the pipe, sending it flying into the rafters of the ceiling. Donatello blinked in stunned silence as Leonardo grabbed his wrist and bolted for the exit. However, they weren't fast enough before the bomb exploded.

Outside, Raphael and Michelangelo were just taking out the last group of Purple Dragons when they heard the deafening explosion. They swung around and watched in horror as the warehouse collapsed; the last thing they saw was the terrified look on Leonardo's and Donatello's faces before they disappeared in a blanket of concrete, steel and plumes of dark grey smoke. What remained of the Purple Dragons and Foot scattered seconds after the warehouse collapsed. Raphael and Michelangelo, however, ran towards the twisted wreckage and desperately started trying to dig their brothers out.

"Leo! Donny!" Michelangelo desperately called as he dug in the general area he had last seen his brothers.

"Yo, Fearless, can you hear me?" Raphael shouted fearfully. "Donny!"

They continued to dig and call out to their two brothers, but their desperate pleas for an answer was only greeted by a bleak stillness.

Raphael and Michelangelo started to dig faster as heavy dread began to fill them. Soon, they had a hole big enough to fit through. Below them were their brothers. Leonardo was on top of Donatello, using his body as a living shield against the rubble that threatened to crush his younger brother. Donatello was curled up underneath both brothers lying much too still.

Raphael and Michelangelo reached down and carefully pulled Leonardo up through the hole. Raphael's heart sank to the bottom of his stomach when he saw a piece of steel sticking out of Leonardo's right side.

"I've got Leo," Raphael told Michelangelo. "Get Donny."

While Michelangelo helped Donatello out of the rubble, Raphael gently picked Leonardo up in his arms, cradling him close to his chest, and headed straight for the nearest manhole cover with a now conscious and seemingly unharmed Donatello being supported by Michelangelo who trailed behind him.

The trip back to the lair seemed to take an eternity, but when they finally made it back, Raphael made a beeline for the infirmary. By that time, Donatello had come around from his dazed state of mind and went into full doctor mode. He instructed Raphael to prep Leonardo for immediate surgery. Donatello laid out his surgical tools while Raphael placed an I.V. in Leonardo's arm. Raphael hooked up to the I.V. line a bag of saline solution as well as a bag of blood; Leonardo having lost a fair amount of the precious crimson liquid on their way back to the lair. When everything was in place and Leonardo was hooked up to the proper equipment, Donatello injected Leonardo with an anesthetic to make sure their brother remained unconscious during the surgery. After this Donatello began the operation with Raphael's help; guiding him in the delicate process of removing the metal shrapnel from Leonardo's side.

Michelangelo waited outside in the TV area with Klunk nestled in his lap. He stroked his beloved cat and listened to the gentle purring. Michelangelo hoped and prayed that Leonardo was going to pull through. He looked over his shoulder at Splinter's room. Once it housed the best rat that had ever lived; now it served as a second infirmary, one that wasn't drenched in the smell of blood like the operating room Leonardo was currently in.

"Leo's going to be okay, right, Klunk?" Michelangelo asked, looking back down at the orange and white tabby cat.

Klunk opened an eye to look at his master and let out a soft "meow" in answer. Michelangelo sighed and rubbed Klunk behind the ears. He laid his head back against the couch and closed his eyes. Maybe when he woke up from a much needed nap his brothers would be done.

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Reviews are welcome, flames are not


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N**: Thanks to Amonraphoenix and Darkunderworld for beta-ing for me.

**Disclaimer**: see chapter one

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One week later...

Donatello was jolted awake when he heard a knock on his lab door. The knock sounded again, this time more forceful. Donatello sluggishly looked around at the mess that the lab was in. He hurriedly tidied up before he went to open the door. Outside stood an irritated Raphael, looking like he had aged ten years.

"Are you planning to rot in there?" Raphael asked with a slight growl in his voice.

Donatello shrugged dismissively. "So what if I am? I'm out of your way and Mikey's. I can work in peace and you and Mike don't have to bother seeing me."

"That would be great," Raphael said. "If you were a hermit. You have two brothers outside your lab, you know."

Donatello took a deep breath and let it out in one quick huff. Raphael wrinkled his nose when he smelled something on his brother's breath. He took a second whiff of the air in front of him and smelled the odor again.

"What's wrong?" Donatello asked.

Raphael's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Have you...have you been drinking?" Raphael demanded incredulously.

Donatello swallowed nervously. Raphael pushed his way inside the lab and looked around. He began searching through the small room. Donatello began to panic. He went over to his brother and tried to pull him towards the door.

"Raph, come on. This is ridiculous," Donatello said.

Raphael pulled out a drawer and heard the unmistakeable clink of glass against glass. He reached inside the paper filled drawer and pulled out a liquor bottle. Donatello felt his heart plummet into the pit of his stomach. His panic turned into pure terror when Raphael turned around and glared at him.

"I can explain…" Donatello began.

"When did you start drinking?" Raphael demanded waving the bottle in his face. "Is this why you've been hiding away in here?"

Donatello shifted uncomfortably on his feet. He looked down at the floor, not being able to hold his brother's intense golden gaze.

Raphael lightly placed the bottle on the table and ran a hand over his face before putting it over his mouth and closing his eyes. He was barely holding himself together, how was he supposed to keep his remaining brothers from falling apart?

"Why Donny?" Raphael whispered, lowering his hand.

"It helps numb the pain," Donatello replied softly.

"And when it wears off? What then?" Raphael asked. "You drink more, and when that wears off you start all over again?"

Donatello looked away. The words hurt, but they were the truth. Raphael shook his head in disbelief and denial.

"Leo wouldn't want this," the red masked turtle said quietly.

Donatello faced his brother. "How do you know what Leo would have wanted?" he asked harshly. "You were always too busy challenging every single idea, plan and thought that he had."

"Because it was my job to be the difficult one," Raphael snapped.

"And now you're not?" Donatello asked skeptically.

"Someone has to be the responsible one," Raphael replied decisively.

Donatello laughed, but it was devoid of humor. "That's rich coming from you. From hot-head to level-head, huh? Who died and made you leader? It wasn't Master Splinter, and it certainly wasn't Leo."

"Well you're too drunk to be much use to anyone these days. So that rules you out as leader," Raphael spat.

"So, that just leaves Mikey then," Donatello said. "And he can't stand being out of his room for five seconds without bursting into a sobbing wreck."

Raphael grabbed the whiskey bottle and threw it on the floor, smashing it into a hundred tiny shards. Donatello backed up a couple of steps at the sudden outburst of anger. Raphael looked from the shattered liquor bottle to Donatello. His eyes then drifted to the door and noticed a very timid Michelangelo standing in the doorway. His blue eyes were watery and bloodshot, no doubt from all the crying that he had been doing. He held his beloved cat in his arms, who was glaring at the two older brothers as if angry that they had upset his master even more.

"How long have you been there?" Raphael asked as he forced himself to calm down.

"Long enough," Michelangelo replied quietly, his voice hoarse from all the crying.

Donatello closed his eyes and lowered his head in shame. Michelangelo stepped into the lab and walked over to where Raphael stood so that he could look Donatello in the face. His eyes drifted down to the shattered bottle on the floor before going back to the broken and beaten expression on Donatello's face.

"Is it true, Donny?" Michelangelo asked. "Have you started drinking?"

When Donatello didn't answer, the youngest simply nodded in numb acceptance. He looked down at Klunk who was still nestled in his arms.

"So that's where the money April gives us for food disappears to," Michelangelo said in disbelief.

Donatello remained silent. Anything he said would only be used against him later if Raphael ever saw need of it. The purple masked brother knew he was in way over his head; he was supposed to be the smart one and he was drinking himself to death. But it was the only way he could deal with the pain and guilt of letting Leonardo die. He just wished his brothers would blame him for their loss; however they never did. They always said that it had been an accident that took the life of their eldest brother; an accident that he could have prevented.

After the surgery he had told his siblings that Leonardo would have to recover; his vitals were strong and he was confident that their brother was doing well. They had all believed Leonardo would make a full recovery, only he hadn't. They had all grabbed a few hours of rest after the traumatic experience, and when Donatello had awoken two hours later to check on Leonardo…Leonardo had quietly passed away. His body already cold and stiff upon the cot he lay on. Donatello hadn't understood what had gone wrong.

He had secretly performed an autopsy and found out that his brother had died of internal bleeding; a small tear that he had missed had caused his oldest brother to bleed out while they had been sleeping soundly in the next room. They had all been devastated and still were. Another grave marker and another grave dug to bury a precious family member. Donatello hadn't believed that anything could hurt as bad as losing Master Splinter, but he had been wrong. Losing their oldest brother was a knife straight through an already shattered and broken heart, twisting and hurting more than any of them could bear.

And Donatello couldn't bear it. He blamed himself for the mistake that had cost Leonardo his life. Donatello replayed the events of the night over and over again in his head and all he could think was that he wished Leonardo didn't save his life, because then Leonardo would have lived, and Donatello wouldn't have to bear the soul crushing guilt of knowing that his brother had saved his life, and yet when it had mattered, Donatello hadn't saved Leonardo's.

"Get out," Donatello whispered miserably.

"Donny, we're only trying to help," Michelangelo said.

"Just...get out," Donatello ordered his voice breaking as he tried to hold back the overwhelming black tide of grief that rose up to consume him.

Being mindful of the broken glass, Raphael guided Michelangelo over to the door and out of the lab without saying a word. Donatello put a hand over his eyes and broke down. He felt like a failure. He had failed Leonardo and now he was failing Raphael and Michelangelo. However, his self-pity was cut short when he thought he felt something brush up against his arm.

Donatello's head snapped up, his eyes wide as they searched the lab for whatever it was that had touched him. He frowned when he thought he saw a flicker of blue just a few feet away from him.

"Don!" someone called. "Donatello!"

Donatello backed up a couple of steps when something began to materialize in front of him. His eyes widened even more when he saw who it was.

"For goodness sake, answer me!" Leonardo's voice rang through the lab.

Raphael and Michelangelo turned to look at the lab when they heard Donatello's scream. The brothers looked at each other before bolting for the lab door. Donatello stumbled back as he tried to get away from the ghostly figure of his deceased oldest brother.

"Stay away!" he yelled in guilty terror.

The door burst open and Raphael appeared. He looked around and saw Donatello cowering in the corner of the room.

"Donny, what's going on?" Raphael asked as Michelangelo ran up.

Donatello pointed a shaky finger in the direction of the ghost. "I-I...h-he...ghost," he stammered out incoherently.

Raphael looked around, but saw nothing except the mess he had caused earlier. "Donny, there's no ghost."

"It's right there," Donatello insisted.

"He can't see me, Donny," the ghost Leonardo said. "Only you can."

Raphael walked over to his brother and knelt down. "This is what alcohol does to your brain," he said. "It fries it."

"But-" Donatello started.

"There's nothing there," Michelangelo replied, looking around the lab.

Raphael linked his hand around Donatello's arm and pulled him to his feet. "Come on, Brainiac, let's get you sobered up."

Donatello allowed himself to be pulled from the lab. He looked over to the far side of the room, but the ghost was gone. Donatello tried to keep himself together, but this just made things even worse. It wasn't enough that he blamed himself for Leonardo's death, but now his older brother was back from beyond the grave to haunt him for letting him die. Donatello felt pieces of his mind begin to crack and he knew that this was just the beginning.

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Reviews are welcome, flames are not


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N**: Thanks to Amonraphoenix and Darkunderworld for beta-ing for me. And thanks to everyone who has read and reviewed thus far. I'm glad you're all enjoying the story.

**Disclaimer**: see chapter one

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Leonardo looked down at the swords that lay on their pedestal on the desk in his room. Nothing had been touched; everything was exactly the same as when he had left it. He wondered what had called him back from the grave. There was something, he knew it, but he couldn't put his finger on it. Maybe it was that he never got the chance to say good-bye to Raphael and Michelangelo; he had managed to see Donatello one last time before he passed away. Leonardo hummed deep in thought as he continued to stare at his beloved swords that tied him to the world of life.

He hadn't been dead for a week before something pulled him out of the realm of eternal sleep and called him back to the lair. Something must have happened, something must have gone wrong; but what could go wrong in death? Leonardo's mind sought out each of his brothers. He had tried on several accounts to get through to them, to tell them that he was there, but no one could see or hear him...until Donatello. It broke Leonardo's heart to see his genius brother in such a state. _Did he really blame himself that much for something he didn't cause?_ Raphael had been correct in saying that Donatello's drinking wasn't something Leonardo would have wanted. He wanted his brothers to continue on, to lean on each other for support through the hard times…not fall apart and into disarray.

Leonardo closed his eyes and lowered his head. What could he do? He was just a spirit, a ghost. He had tried to help Donatello and his brother had freaked out, no doubt believing he was now being haunted. Leonardo sighed sadly and opened his eyes to look at the picture of his family that sat near the sword pedestal.

"Master Splinter, what do I do?" he asked quietly. "Donny thinks I'm here to haunt him when that's not true. How do I make him see that I'm trying to help him?"

Leonardo knelt down on the floor and closed his eyes as if he were slipping into a meditative state. However, his moment of silence was broken when he heard his brothers' voices just outside his bedroom door.

"Why would Leo be haunting you?" Raphael was saying.

"Because I let him die," Donatello replied bitterly.

"And you think he wants revenge, is that it?" Raphael asked gruffly in disbelief.

There was silence for moment and Raphael sighed. Leonardo got to his feet and went to the door. He stood in front of the door for a few moments before stepping through into the hallway. Raphael and Donatello were a few feet away, but they didn't see him.

"Leo had issues with failing, I won't deny that," Raphael said, his voice calm and gentle. "But no matter what happened, he never sought vengeance."

Donatello looked out over the lair. "Ghosts and spirits don't have the morals they had when they were alive," he replied quietly. "A person who was peaceful and kind in life could turn into a vengeful spirit in death."

Leonardo felt like he had been punched in the stomach. Did Donatello truly believe that? Or was it the alcohol talking? Raphael's eyes hardened and it looked like he was going to punch Donatello, but he kept his arms tightly crossed.

"That's an insult to Leo's memory," the brother in red hissed. "Drunk or not you should know better."

Donatello remained silent. Leonardo wanted nothing more than to reach out and embrace his brothers; however, he was nothing more than a spirit in their world. It was only by a freak miracle that Donatello saw and heard him the first time in the lab. Maybe it had something to do with heightened senses. Donatello had been in an emotional mess and Leonardo had been desperate to reach out to his brother.

Leonardo walked over to his brothers and reached his hand out to try to touch Raphael's arm, but it just passed straight through. He lowered his hand and sighed sadly. Then, Raphael rubbed his arm where Leonardo had touched him as if he had a slight chill.

"Donny, what do I have to do to get through to you?" Raphael asked beseechingly. "We've already lost one brother, now we're losing another."

"I just...need time to think," Donatello told him softly.

"And hitting the bottle is helping with that?" Raphael asked skeptically.

Donatello closed his eyes as his body began to tremble. "You pretending to be Leo doesn't help," he snapped angrily.

"I'm not tryin' to be Leo," Raphael replied. "I'm just tryin' to be strong for you and Mikey."

Leonardo smiled at the irony. _Figures; It only took his death to make Raphael keep his anger under control._ He looked up and was surprised to see Raphael's eyes shining with unshed tears.

_When did Raphael start to openly show his emotions?_ Leonardo asked himself. _The guys are in worse shape than I thought._

"Trying to be strong, huh?" Donatello echoed numbly. "Fine job you're doing. I hear you at night, Raph. You took Leo's death just as hard, if not harder, than Mikey. You're not as strong as you think."

"Neither was Leo and he still pulled it off," Raphael pointed out.

Donatello turned dull brown eyes to his older brother. "Hate to break it to ya, Raphie, but you're not Leo. And you never will be, so stop trying to fill his place."

Before Raphael could say anything, Donatello walked away and disappeared into his room. Raphael closed his eyes and hung his head as he tried to keep himself from breaking down. He stumbled over to brace himself upon the cold, hard stone wall of the lair, all the while trying not to let himself collapse into a ball of shaking, sobbing misery. He managed not to fall, arm braced on the wall; head buried into his arm as the tears of frustration and grief he felt silently rolled down his cheeks.

Leonardo instinctively stepped forward and wrapped his arms around his sobbing brother.

"Don't be sad, Raph," he said. "Donny just needs to sort through some things. He'll come to you when he's ready."

Raphael's head snapped up, his eyes wide as he searched for something unseen. Leonardo stepped back at his brother's reaction. If his heart had been beating, Leonardo was sure it would have skipped a beat when Raphael unknowingly locked eyes with him.

"Raph?" Leonardo asked, his hope rising. "Can you see or hear me?"

Raphael shook his head and looked away. "Hearin' what you want to hear," he muttered to himself.

Leonardo bit back a cry of frustration as Raphael walked away. He had been so close. Leonardo turned to face Donatello's closed bedroom door. He walked over to the door and walked through it as if it wasn't there. He found his genius brother sitting on his bed fiddling with some large weights and heavy rope. Leonardo frowned at the scene. What was Donatello doing with weights and rope?

Donatello got up from his bed and went over to his desk. He pulled out a bottle of whiskey and a glass and poured a small amount of the golden liquid into the glass. Donatello placed the bottle on the desk and picked the glass up, raising it as if he were giving a toast.

"To never feeling anything ever again," he mumbled before downing the entire contents of the glass.

Leonardo's confusion lifted when he heard Donatello's words. "Oh, Shell," he said.

Without thinking, he ran out of the room and made a mad dash for the dojo. Inside he found Raphael pounding away at his punching bag.

"Raph, you have got to hear me," Leonardo pleaded. "Donny's in danger, you have to help him."

Raphael continued to attack the punching bag, not hearing a word his deceased brother was saying. Leonardo let out a frustrated cry.

"Raphael!" he yelled.

Raphael whipped around when he heard his name. But it wasn't his name that caught his attention; it was the voice that said it. He looked around the dojo, but he was the only one in the room. Keeping a hold on his frustration, Leonardo tried to get through to his red masked brother.

"Donny's in trouble," he said slowly, emphasizing each word. "If you don't do something he's going to do something and it's going to be incredibly stupid. Are you hearing me?!"

Fear began to fill Raphael's eyes. No way was he hearing what he was hearing. This had to be his mind playing tricks on him. He was so grief stricken that he was beginning to hear his dead brother's voice, just like Donatello. Leonardo stepped forward and grabbed Raphael's shoulders. Almost instantly, Raphael jumped and shot across the room, rubbing his arms where Leonardo's had grabbed him.

"Go check on Don," Leonardo ordered, hoping that the words would get through. "Even if he doesn't know it, he needs you."

Raphael backed out of the dojo and ran for the stairs. Leonardo followed, hoping to see his brother head for Donatello's room. However, Raphael disappeared into his own room. Leonardo screamed and slammed his fist into the wall; surprisingly making contact with the cool brick. How was he supposed to help his brothers if all he did was terrify them? Donatello was going to do something stupid and Raphael and Michelangelo had know.

Leonardo looked at his hand and wondered how he was going to inform Raphael and Michelangelo about Donatello's plan. Then he got an idea. If Raphael wouldn't listen to him, then maybe Michelangelo would. The youngest had been in a state of absolute misery ever since Leonardo's death, and if he could reach his brothers when their senses were heightened, there may be a chance that Leonardo would be able to get through to his baby brother.

Leonardo hurried off for Michelangelo's room, praying that his plan to save Donatello would work. He had already been briefly reunited with his father in the afterlife; however he wasn't ready to be reunited with one of his brothers just yet.

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Reviews are welcome, flames are not.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N**: Thanks to Amonraphoenix and Darkunderworld for beta-ing for me. You two rock! And thanks to everyone who has read and reviewed thus far. I'm glad you're all enjoying the story.

**Disclaimer**: see chapter one

* * *

Donatello downed another glass of whiskey as he glanced at the clock on his computer. One o'clock in the morning; his brothers should be well asleep by now. He poured himself one final glass of whiskey and gulped it down before he made his way over to the bed and picked up the weights that lay upon the mattress. Thick rope was tied securely around the weights. Donatello quietly opened his bedroom door and crept outside, closing the door behind him again and made his way for the stairs. When he got downstairs, he made his way towards the pool.

Meanwhile, Michelangelo was in the grips of a nightmare when he was woken up by his eldest brother's voice. He shot up in bed and looked around his room with wide, fear filled eyes. A horrible sinking feeling began to wash over him and he threw off the blankets before jumping out of bed and heading for the door. Michelangelo opened the door and hurried out into the hall. He looked out over the lair; all was still and quiet. He made a mad dash for Donatello's room and threw open the door, his heart sinking to the bottom of his stomach. The room was empty.

"Raph!" Michelangelo yelled.

A minute later, Raphael appeared, irritated that he had been woken up. His eyes were narrowed in slits of golden anger. He glared at his baby brother and silently questioned why Michelangelo had yelled in the first place.

"What?" Raphael barked.

"Donny's not in his room," Michelangelo said.

Raphael growled under his breath. "Maybe he slept in his lab," he suggested.

Michelangelo shook his head. "I don't think so. I don't know why but I get the feeling that Donny's in trouble."

Raphael sighed and made his way for the stairs with Michelangelo right behind him. The brothers headed downstairs and walked towards Donatello's lab. When they passed by the pool, Raphael frowned when he saw faint ripples moving across the water. He turned to look at Michelangelo, who merely shrugged. Raphael walked to the water's edge and his eyes widened in horror when he saw the unmistakeable color of a purple mask. Without a second thought or word to Michelangelo, Raphael dove into the water and swam for the bottom as fast as he could.

Donatello gave no indication that he knew his brother was there. Raphael pulled out one of his sais and began cutting away at the rope that was tied around his brother's ankles. When Donatello was free, Raphael grabbed him and hauled him to the surface. They broke the surface of the water with a whoosh and Michelangelo reached down to pull Donatello to safety. Raphael pulled himself up and began assessing Donatello. He started doing chest compressions, breaking every few seconds to breathe air into his brother's unmoving lungs.

"You're not dying on us yet, Donny," Raphael growled sharply.

Leonardo looked on in terrified horror, only able to shout silent encouragements at Raphael and pray that his message to Michelangelo had not sunk in until it was too late, and Donatello too far gone to be revived.

Michelangelo watched anxiously as Raphael continued with the chest compressions. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Donatello began to cough up the water that had filled his lungs. Raphael pulled his brother into the recovery position so the water could drain. Water poured out of Donatello's mouth the more he coughed.

"That's it, Donny, breathe," Raphael encouraged, patting his brother's shell firmly.

Donatello finally managed to catch his breath and slowly opened his eyes. Pure, raw agony washed over his face when he realized that he was still alive. He squeezed his eyes tight as they began to burn with hot tears.

"Why did you do that?" Donatello asked miserably.

"That's my line," Raphael snarled. "What the heck, Don? That was the most idiotic move you could ever make!"

Donatello buried his face in his arms. "You should have left me down there," he choked out. "You should have just let me go."

"We're not finished with you just yet, Bonehead," Raphael told him.

"Why, Donny?" Michelangelo asked, his eyes burning with fierce tears. "Why would you try something like that?"

"Mikey..." Donatello began.

Michelangelo shook his head. "A suicide attempt, Donny Are we not worth living for?" he asked angrily.

"It's got nothing to do with you," Donatello replied.

"It's got everything to do with us!" Michelangelo roared. "We're your brothers, Don. Did you really think we would just let you drown yourself?" He took a shaky breath. "For a genius you really are stupid," he said.

"Is this how you honor Leo's memory…his sacrifice?" Raphael asked. "By killing yourself?"

"If it wasn't for me Leo would still be alive," Donatello said miserably, his body beginning to tremble. "I should have checked more thoroughly. I should have made sure every laceration had been stitched up. I messed up and Leo had to pay the price for my failure."

From his place in his invisible world, Leonardo could only stand by and watch helplessly as his genius brother broke down. He could almost imagine Donatello's already cracked psyche breaking even more, and coming dangerously close to shattering all together. There was already a spider web of deep fissures, one more push and Donatello would break, never to be repaired again. Leonardo closed his eyes and hung his head sorrowfully.

"Oh, Don," he whispered wretchedly. "How can I make you see that this wasn't your fault?"

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Leonardo sat on a chair on the other side of the lab, his eyes locked on to Donatello's back. It had been three days since his failed suicide attempt and Raphael had been watching Donatello like a hawk. This was the first test in gaining back Raphael's trust. Donatello quietly typed away on the computer, probably upgrading the security system again. Leonardo drummed his fingers against his knees and continued to stare at his brother's concentrating form.

"You have no idea how boring it is to be a ghost," Leonardo said. "And frustrating. I can't leave you guys for a week without being called back from beyond the grave because you got yourselves into trouble." He leaned over to one side as if he was trying to see around his brother. "But you didn't get yourselves into trouble, did you? This isn't a threat from the Foot or Purple Dragons, this threat is new; a threat of the mind and spirit."

Donatello picked up the glass that was sitting by the keyboard and took a sip from it. Leonardo sighed. If the failed suicide attempt had done anything, it had only made Donatello's drinking worse. He went through three or more bottles of whiskey a day. Leonardo wondered where Donatello was getting the money for the alcohol. Sadly, he was tethered to the lair since his swords were here, so all of his brother's topside activities were a mystery to him. All he knew was that Raphael handled the money that April gave them for food, so Donatello wasn't getting it that way. Leonardo didn't want to think that his brother was doing anything illegal, but at this point, could unfortunately only speculate that he was.

"I wish you would talk to me, Don," Leonardo said. "Say something, anything. You're making me feel useless."

Donatello stopped what he was doing and leaned back in the chair, stretching. He put his hands behind his head and looked up at the ceiling.

"Is anything getting through?" Leonardo asked. When Donatello didn't answer, he groaned in frustration. "Too bad we didn't befriend a medium," Leonardo grumbled. "That would make things a lot easier."

"I'm sorry," Donatello suddenly said out loud.

Leonardo's head snapped up, his eyes wide. He expected his brother to say something else, but Donatello remained silent after that one simple apology. The purple masked turtle went back to his work and Leonardo went back to his silent vigil. He wasn't letting Donatello out of his sight for one minute.

* * *

Reviews are welcome, flames are not.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N**: Thanks to Amonraphoenix and Darkunderworld for beta-ing for me. And thanks to everyone for reading and reviewing thus far. I'm glad you're all enjoying the story.

**Disclaimer**: see chapter one

* * *

Leonardo was woken up by the sound of a chair rolling across the floor. He yawned and stretched, even though he didn't need to. It was late; really late. He must have fallen asleep while watching Donatello. Leonardo rubbed his eyes and looked over to see his purple masked brother stand up from his chair and head for the door of the lab, grabbing a duffle bag as he went. Like a shadow, Leonardo followed his brother out of the lab. He half expected Donatello to head for his room, but he didn't. Instead, he made his way towards the elevator. Frowning in confusion, Leonardo followed close behind him.

Donatello glanced behind him towards his brother's rooms as he placed his hand against the elevator doors. The doors opened and Donatello stepped into the elevator. Instinctively, Leonardo went to step in after his brother, but when he took a step towards the elevator it was like an invisible force yanked him backwards. Leonardo growled in frustration when he remembered that his swords were still upstairs in his room. He watched helplessly as the elevator doors closed with Donatello inside.

"Donny, wait!" Leonardo called.

He heard the sound of a door opening and he turned to see Raphael coming out of his room. The red masked turtle came downstairs and headed over to the elevator. Leonardo hoped to see his brother carrying his swords, but he was out of luck. Leonardo ran his hands over his face as he had to watch Raphael slip out of the lair, following their brother to the surface. His shoulders dropped and he groaned in frustration. He needed to know what Donatello was up to; however, he knew that Raphael would take care of Donatello if the purple masked inventor got into trouble.

* * *

Donatello looked around to make sure no one was watching him as he walked up to the back door of the small liquor store. He shifted the duffle bag strap on his shoulder as he expertly disarmed the security alarm. He then picked the lock and opened the door, stepping into a back room that was filled with various boxes. Donatello examined each box in turn, taking only a couple of bottles from the ones he wanted and placed the bottles carefully into the duffle bag.

When he was satisfied, Donatello zipped up the bag and covered his tracks before locking the door from the inside and heading out into the alley. He shifted the strap on his shoulder and made his way for the nearest manhole. He didn't see a red masked figure watching him from across the street on a roof top concealed in shadows. Raphael narrowed his golden eyes in disgust before making his way back to the lair.

* * *

Leonardo tapped his foot impatiently against the floor. He was leaning up against the wall by the elevator with his arms crossed over his plastron and a concerned look on his face. The elevator doors opened and Raphael stalked out first, seething mad. Leonardo swallowed thickly and wondered what had happened topside. The doors closed and the elevator rose up to the warehouse, probably to retrieve Donatello.

"Raph, what happened?" Leonardo asked, even though he knew his words wouldn't reach his brother's ears. "Is Donny okay?"

Raphael stopped walking and hung his head, sighing in the process. "I wish you were here, Leo, I could really use that level head of yours," he whispered sadly. "I don't know what to do. Donny's over the deep end now and I don't know what to do anymore."

Leonardo's heart clenched at Raphael's words. What had Donatello done this time? Leonardo turned to face the elevator when the doors opened again. Donatello walked out, but stopped short when he saw Raphael standing a few feet away. The bottles clinked together in the bag, alerting the red masked turtle to his younger brother's arrival.

"You're supposed to be the smart one, Don," Raphael growled, keeping his back to his brother. "What would Leo and Sensei think if they knew you were usin' your ninja skills to steal?"

"What?!" Leonardo cried in horror. He swung to face Donatello. "Is that true, Donny?"

Donatello shifted uncomfortably on his feet, but he didn't say anything. Raphael finally turned around to look at his younger brother. The fire had long since burned out of his amber eyes. All that was left was cooling embers of a once fierce and deadly flame, leaving behind a hollow shell of what used to be the hottest tempered turtle in New York.

"This is how you get your fix now, huh?" Raphael asked. "By stealing? You're not a Purple Dragon or a Foot ninja, Donny."

"What am I then?" Donatello asked bitterly. "Huh? Please, tell me because I sure as hell don't know."

"You're my brother," Raphael replied brokenly. "My little brother. Do you realize that your actions not only reflect poorly on you, but on me, as well? I'm supposed to protect you from this."

Donatello swallowed back the tears that were threatening to well up in his eyes. "I'm not a baby anymore, Raph," he said, hardening his heart. "You're not all powerful. You can't protect everyone, especially not me."

With that said he stormed off to his lab and slammed the door behind him, not caring if he woke up Michelangelo. Raphael hung his head as he fought back tears of grief and misery. If Leonardo didn't feel helpless before, he did now. He had tried everything he could think of to reach his brothers and all he had managed to do was freak them out.

"It should have been me," Raphael muttered under his breath, so low that Leonardo almost missed it. "They need you, Leo, not me."

"Don't you dare," Leonardo said sharply. "Don't you dare start talking like that."

Raphael turned and headed for his room. Leonardo followed him as far as the stairs.

"What I did was my choice," the blue masked ghost called up after his brother. "It was my job as eldest to look out for my younger brothers. Now it's your turn. Don't let them go, Raph." The lair echoed as the door closed. "Don't give up," Leonardo whispered miserably.

* * *

Reviews are welcome, flames are not.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N**: Thanks to Amonraphoenix and Darkunderworld for beta-ing for me. I would be lost without you. And thanks to everyone who has read and reviewed thus far. I'm glad you're enjoying the story.

**Disclaimer**: see chapter one

* * *

Leonardo sat on his bed with his legs pulled up to his chest, his arms wrapped around his legs and his chin resting on his knees. How could this be happening to his family? It was like something out of a nightmare. They were ninjas, they had honor. Where was the honor in stealing? Did Donatello know what he was doing to the name of Hamato by committing such a horrendous act? Splinter hadn't trained them in the art of ninjitsu so that they could take things from innocent people; only the Foot clan did that and the Purple Dragons.

Leonardo's musings were interrupted when he heard angry voices coming from downstairs. Raphael and Donatello were at it again. Leonardo sighed sadly. They fought just like he used to fight with Raphael. Sighing again, Leonardo got up from the bed and walked to the door. Instinctively, his hand went to the door handle, but he stopped and lowered his hand before walking through the door. He was never going to get used to that. Leonardo turned his head to see Michelangelo timidly peeking out of his room to see what was going on.

"It's nothing new, Mikey," Leonardo told his baby brother tiredly. "Raph and Don just have some issues to work out."

Michelangelo headed downstairs and made his way towards the lab with Leonardo following close behind him. The closer they got to the lab, the more uneasy Leonardo began to feel. He sensed that something bad was going to happen.

"Be careful, Mike," Leonardo warned.

"Why do you insist on making my life a living hell?" Donatello shrieked.

"_I'm_ making your life? I'm not the one breaking and entering and dishonoring the clan like some low life Foot ninja or Dragon!" Raphael roared back.

Michelangelo put his ear to the closed door and listened to his brother's fight. The bad feeling continued to grow and Leonardo wanted nothing more than to pull his baby brother away from the door.

"Where's the honor in taking things from innocent people?" Raphael hissed sharply. "There is none!"

"So, I have no honor now, is that what you're saying?" Donatello spat.

"Not if you continue going down this road, no," Raphael replied coolly.

There was the sound of breaking glass and Leonardo could only assume that another bottle had been broken against a wall, most likely aimed at Raphael.

"I don't need this," Donatello snarled. "Especially not from you, Raphael. You have a lot of nerve lecturing me about honor when you yourself don't have a shred of honor in your entire body!" Donatello roared before another bottle being broken was heard.

Time seemed to slow down for Leonardo. He seemed to be watching everything in slow motion. Michelangelo opened the door at the same time Donatello threw the broken bottle at Raphael. The bottle missed the intended target and instead struck Michelangelo; the heavy glass bottle hit Michelangelo right in the face, the glass shattering on impact into razor sharp fragments that tore across their baby brother's face in a sickening spray of glass and alcohol. Michelangelo cried out in pain, his hands flying to his eyes as he stumbled back, before he fell to the floor. Letting out another cry of anguished pain as he landed in the glass shards; crimson blood began to seep between his fingers.

"Mikey!" Raphael cried out in horror as he rushed to his baby brother's side.

Leonardo's horror was mirrored on Donatello's face. The purple masked turtle just stood there, frozen in place. He had hurt Michelangelo; the innocent one. What was wrong with him?

"Mikey, I-" Donatello started wretchedly.

"Don't even," Raphael cut Donatello off furiously.

"I didn't know he was there," Donatello said in a shaky voice.

Raphael coaxed Mikey to show him the injury he had sustained. Michelangelo slowly removed his hands and Raphael quickly examined his face fearing the glass had hit his eyes. Luckily the glass had missed his eyes but not by much. A severe cut across his forehead was the source of the blood. Raphael was relieved that the damage wasn't too bad. He turned to face Donatello, the fire once again burning in his amber eyes and Donatello knew he was in an incredible amount of trouble. No one harmed Raphael's brothers, even if that someone was another brother. Donatello looked down at the floor, wishing he could curl up inside his shell and never come out again. Raphael guided Michelangelo out of the lab and towards the infirmary without saying a word to Donatello.

"I'm so sorry," Donatello whispered wretchedly as he watch them go.

* * *

Raphael wrapped a clean bandage around the gash and tied it off. "How's that? Not too tight?" he asked worriedly.

Michelangelo moved his head back and forth, testing the tightness of the bandage. "Nope. It's fine," he answered softly.

"Good," Raphael said.

He packed up the first aid kit and put it away. Michelangelo swung his legs back and forth, the tips of his toes brushing against the cool floor. He wanted to talk to Raphael about his fight with Donatello, but he knew their purple masked brother was a sensitive subject at the moment.

"I'm going topside to get some more food and supplies," Raphael said.

"Can I come?" Michelangelo asked.

Raphael shook his head. "I want you to stay here and keep an eye on Donny," he replied.

Michelangelo nodded in agreement and Raphael gave him a half smile. He patted his brother on the shoulder and headed out of the infirmary. Michelangelo hopped off the examining table and followed his brother out to the elevator. Raphael was just pulling on his trench coat when Michelangelo walked up. He put on his hat and turned to face the youngest.

"I shouldn't be too long," Raphael said. "Is there anything you want me to get besides the usual?"

Michelangelo thought for a moment before shaking his head. "Nope, nothing that I can think of," he answered.

Raphael nodded. "I'll be back as soon as I can."

The elevator doors opened and Raphael stepped inside. Michelangelo stayed where he was until the doors closed and Raphael was gone. He turned around when he heard movement coming from behind him. Donatello was coming out of the kitchen and was heading for the bathroom.

"Donny, wait up," Michelangelo called.

Donatello stopped walking and looked up. A pained look crossed his face when he saw the bandage around his brother's head. He looked away in shame.

"I just wanted to tell you that I'm okay and that I forgive you," Michelangelo said quickly.

"I'm so sorry, Mikey," Donatello whispered. "I promise I'll never hurt you ever again."

Michelangelo smiled. "We're brothers, Don. Brothers tend to hurt each other now and then, it comes with the territory."

"I guess," Donatello said softly. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Anyway, I'm going to take a bath," he said.

Michelangelo nodded. "Okay. I'll make us something to eat."

"Sure," Donatello replied.

Michelangelo grinned and headed for the kitchen. Donatello continued on his way to the bathroom and closed and locked the door behind him. He ran a hot bath, as hot as he could tolerate and climbed into the steaming water. He sighed as the hot water soothed his aching muscles. Leonardo poked his head through the bathroom door before stepping all the way through. It looked like Donatello was just having a relaxing bath, but something told Leonardo that it was much more than that.

Out in the kitchen, Michelangelo looking for a knife to cut something when he noticed that one of the slots on the steak knife holder on the counter was empty. He frowned in confusion before his eyes began to widen in realization. He turned and bolted for the bathroom as fast as his legs could carry him. Inside the bathroom, Leonardo could only watch in horror when Donatello held up a serrated steak knife to his wrist.

"Donny, what are you doing?" Leonardo cried as he rushed forward.

"Donny!" Michelangelo screamed as he slammed into the bathroom door.

Donatello took a deep breath and steeled himself. "Good-bye, Mikey. Raph. I'm so sorry it had to end like this," he whispered despondently. "I love you guys."

Michelangelo banged his shoulder against the door again, but it wouldn't budge. Then, he heard a voice that sent a chill running down his spine.

"Mikey, get in here!" Leonardo's voice bellowed.

With renewed determination, Michelangelo took a step back and kicked the door in with a burst of adrenaline. He hurried inside and was horrified to find Donatello lying in a bathtub of bloody water.

"Donny!" Michelangelo screamed as he fell to his knees next to his motionless brother.

* * *

Reviews are welcome, flames are not


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N**: Thanks to Amonraphoenix and Darkunderworld for beta-ing for me. You guys are amazing. And thanks to everyone who has read and reviewed thus far, your support keeps me writing.

**Disclaimer**: see chapter one

* * *

Michelangelo ran to the cabinet and grabbed the first aid kit. He dropped it to the floor as he ran to the bathtub and pulled Donatello out of the still steaming water. Michelangelo's fingers flew to Donatello's neck and he breathed out a sigh of relief when he felt a slow but steady pulse beneath his fingertips. The youngest opened the first aid kit and took out some bandages. His mind was going numb; he didn't know what to do. If he didn't stop the bleeding his brother was going to bleed to death in moments. Michelangelo looked down at the deep gashes in Donatello's wrists. They were vertical instead of horizontal; reaching from his wrist to almost his elbow.

Michelangelo packed some gauze into the gashes to try to help the blood to clot. When the gauze was soaked through, he packed more gauze on top of the bloody gauze. He did that until the gauze wasn't soaked through and the bleeding had slowed. Breathing heavily, Michelangelo packed a bit more gauze onto the gashes before he wrapped bandages around Donatello's forearms. When everything was finished, he allowed himself to fall to the floor; his body trembling uncontrollably.

"You're okay," Michelangelo said to himself and to Donatello. "You're okay. Everything's going to fine."

He vaguely heard the sound of the elevator doors opening and his name being called. Plastic bags were dropped and someone entered the bathroom a few minutes later.

"Mikey? Mikey!" Raphael called anxiously.

Michelangelo opened his eyes, but all he could see was a red and green blur. Raphael tapped Michelangelo's cheek to get him to focus.

"Mikey, say somethin'!" he ordered.

"How's Donny?" Michelangelo whispered.

Raphael looked over to where a blood covered Donatello was lying, his arms wrapped up in neat white bandages. Raphael leaned over and placed his fingers against Donatello's neck. He sighed in relief when he felt a steady pulse beat against his fingers.

"You did good, Mikey," Raphael said proudly. "You saved him. He's going to be okay."

Michelangelo smiled weakly and tried to make his body stop shaking. "That's good," he whispered.

Raphael could only watch as his baby brother passed out, no doubt from the shock of what had just happened. Raphael turned to face Donatello and he sighed again. He was going to have to do something drastic to make sure Donatello didn't try to harm himself again.

* * *

Donatello jerked awake to find himself in the infirmary. He went to move his arms, but quickly found them restrained by thick leather straps that were connected to the bed railings. Beneath the clasps, Donatello could see clean white bandages wrapped around his wrists and for a moment wondered why his wrists were wrapped up. Then he remembered taking the sharpest knife he could find and slicing open his wrists in the bathtub.

Donatello's head fell back against the pillow and he closed his eyes, wondering why his brothers insisted on letting him live in misery. His thoughts were broken when the infirmary door opened and a very worn out Raphael stepped into the room. Donatello swallowed hard when he saw the strained look on his brother's face. Raphael was only a mere twenty years old, but he looked so much older now.

Raphael's once vibrant amber eyes were now dull and cold, no longer holding the fire that used to make them blaze. The red masked brother walked up to the foot of Donatello's bed and gazed at his sibling with pity and sadness.

"Why, Donny?" Raphael whispered in a hoarse voice as if he hadn't spoken in a while. "First we lost Master Splinter, then Leo, and now we're losing you."

"Raph, I-" Donatello began.

"Don't you think we've lost enough of our family?" Raphael asked, his voice remaining quiet and calm.

_Where was the hot-head __I __used to know?_ Donatello wondered before he looked away, not being able to hold his brother's miserable gaze.

"Do you know what this is doing to Mikey…to me?" Raphael continued. "It was bad enough that we all had to watch Sensei slowly pass away, but then we lost Leo only a month after his death-"

"So, you're finally blaming Leo's death on me, now. Is that it?" Donatello snapped, turning back to face his brother.

Tears began to burn Raphael's eyes and he tried extremely hard not to break down. "Don't put words in my mouth, Donny," the older of the two hissed. "I'm saying no such thing."

"Well, it sure sounds like it," Donatello replied harshly.

Not being able to fight it anymore, Raphael allowed the tears to fall. "No one blames you, Don for what happened," he whispered hoarsely. "So, why are you blaming yourself?"

Donatello looked away again. "Because it was my fault that Leo was killed. He stepped in front of the bomb to save me, and then I let him die. If I don't blame myself then who will?"

"Leo wouldn't blame you," Raphael answered. "Leo never blamed us for anything."

"Don't," Donatello said mournfully, closing his eyes tightly. "Please...just don't. I know that he blames me, that's why he's here," he whispered so softly that Raphael didn't hear his words.

He opened his eyes and stiffened when he saw the ghostly image of Leonardo standing in the corner of the room. Pure, raw terror gripped Donatello like a boa constrictor. The ghost never moved or said anything, just stood there, accusing him with his calm expression.

"Raph," Donatello whispered in fear. "Just let me go already."

"No, Donny," Raphael denied. "Not until you're better. I'm not taking the chance of you trying to kill yourself again."

Raphael turned and headed for the door. Donatello began to fight against the restraints.

"Raph, please," he begged. "You have to let me go."

Raphael opened the door and disappeared outside, closing the door behind him. Donatello looked from the door to the ghostly image of his brother. Raphael headed for the couch and sat down as Donatello's screams began to fill the lair.

"Raphael! Let me go! Raphael!"

Raphael put a hand over his eyes and broke down into uncontrollable sobs as he listened to his brother's anguished cries.

"Raphael, please," Donatello beseeched.

At that moment, Michelangelo walked out of his room and slowly made his way downstairs. He went over to the couch and looked from Raphael to the closed infirmary door where he could hear Donatello's cries for help.

"Aren't you going to do something?" Michelangelo asked.

Raphael wiped the tears from his eyes and took a deep, calming breath. "No," he replied.

"Donny's in agony in there," Michelangelo said.

"Raph!" Donatello cried. "Raphie, please! Let me go!"

Tears began to well up in Michelangelo's eyes. It broke Raphael's heart, but he remained where he was.

"This isn't what Leo would do," Michelangelo pointed out.

"Well, in case you haven't noticed, I'm not Leo," Raphael snapped. "Donny needs to face his demons on his own."

"Leo would try to help," Michelangelo said.

"I'm not Leo!" Raphael snarled. "He's gone. We're all that's left. I'm not even sure Donny can be saved, anymore."

"No one is beyond saving," Michelangelo whispered.

"Donny is," Raphael replied softly. "He proved that when he tried to commit suicide."

Michelangelo shook his head. "No, you're wrong," he denied. "You just said we're all that's left. Brothers don't give up on one another."

Raphael looked up at his baby brother. "Then tell me what to do," he whispered in anguish. "I'm barely keeping myself together, let alone you and Donny."

"Donny has to get better. He has to," Michelangelo said. "I can't lose another brother."

"He's tried to commit suicide twice now, Mike," Raphael pointed out.

"He won't try again. He knows we'll just keep fighting to get him back," Michelangelo replied determinedly.

Raphael looked down at the floor. "I hope you're right, Mikey," he whispered. "Because if not...third time's always the charm."

* * *

Reviews are welcome, flames are not.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N**: Thanks to Amonraphoenix and Darkunderworld for beta-ing for me. And thanks to everyone who has read and reviewed thus far, I'm glad you're all enjoying the story.

**Disclaimer**: see chapter one

* * *

Time seemed to lose all meaning. It had been a week since Donatello's second suicide attempt and he had spent that entire week strapped to his bed in the infirmary. Raphael and Michelangelo took turns watching him a few hours at a time to make sure he wouldn't do anything to try to escape, but he never did. Donatello spent most of his time asleep or staring at the ceiling; making watching over him a little bit easier. The hardest part was getting him to eat. At first, Donatello would reluctantly be spoon fed by whichever brother was watching him during meal times, but as the week progressed he became so depressed that he just stopped eating and refused food of any kind, even liquids. It got so bad that Raphael had to hook Donatello up to an I.V. to get some nutrients and fluids into his brother.

All the while, Leonardo watched as his brother deteriorated into an even more hollow shell of himself than what he had been before. When Donatello slept, Leonardo would try to talk to him in hopes that he would somehow be able to reach his brother through his dreams, but Donatello would always wake up screaming and thrashing about hard enough that Leonardo feared he would hurt himself and didn't try again. Leonardo wished he knew what to do; his brother was dying in so many ways and he could do nothing to help him. Leonardo's helplessness was mirrored in both Raphael and Michelangelo.

Leonardo knew it took everything they had to walk into that room every time they switched swifts. First they had to watch Donatello drink himself to death, now they were watching him starve himself to death; they just couldn't win. How much longer would they be able to keep this up? Leonardo guessed not much longer, not without help. But what could he do? He was a spirit; a ghost that had no physical living body anymore. All he could do was watch in helpless frustration as his genius brother self-destructed from misplaced and unfounded guilt. Leonardo sighed heavily as he continued his silent and maddening vigil over the tattered remains of his family.

Leonardo's eyes moved from Donatello to Raphael, who was sitting on a chair near the foot of the bed, reading a magazine. Raphael hadn't moved from the chair in a little over six hours. Just then, Michelangelo walked into the infirmary to switch shifts with Raphael.

"Anything new?" Michelangelo asked with concern, watching a sleeping Donatello on the cot.

Raphael grunted and said nothing had changed. Michelangelo looked at Raphael sadly and spoke in a miserable voice, "We can't keep him tied up forever."

Raphael looked at him angrily. "What option do we have? I don't want to lose another brother. Do you?" he asked pointedly.

Michelangelo looked torn between Raphael and Donatello before he sighed heavily and said carefully, "Raph, I don't want to lose another brother either, but I think the day we lost Leo, we lost Donny as well, and just didn't realize it. Maybe it's better to let him go. If he really wants to die, maybe we should help him."

Raphael looked at Michelangelo, surprised his baby brother would suggest killing another brother. "How can you even suggest something like that?" Raphael hissed in shock.

Michelangelo looked broken and in a quiet voice he said, "I don't want to lose Don but if he is going to die I rather get comfort knowing he went peacefully and not in pain. Think of his suicide attempts, Raph, how much he would have suffered before he died; I'd rather it be a quick and painless death then a drawn out one filled with agony."

Raphael shook his head and looked away from his brother. He got up from the chair and headed for the door without saying another word to Michelangelo. The youngest sighed again and went to sit in the vacant chair. Leonardo watched Raphael leave the infirmary and also sighed before returning to his own silent vigil.

"They need you, Donny," Leonardo said wretchedly. "Why can't you see that?"

* * *

The hours ticked by and Raphael never came around to check on his brothers. Michelangelo knew he had crossed a line by suggesting that they help Donatello end his life. Thinking back on it, the orange masked turtle wondered why he had even suggested it in the first place. Raphael was probably still cooling down, and Michelangelo couldn't blame him; he had suggested the unthinkable.

Michelangelo sighed and looked up at Donatello who was still sound asleep on the cot in front of him. Every now and then, he would mutter or moan in his sleep, but it was nothing to raise an alarm over. Leonardo sat on the other cot beside Donatello's bed and kept his eyes on his brother's face. He wanted to talk to his brother so badly, but he knew that if he tried Donatello would just freak out again; but he felt as if he had to try anyway.

Focusing harder on Donatello's face, Leonardo tapped into his brother's dreams. Michelangelo had just nodded off when Donatello started screaming. He snapped awake and bolted for the cot. Donatello was thrashing around, trying to break free from the clasps that were still chained around his wrists.

"Let me go!" Donatello roared. "Let me go, you can't keep me tied up!"

"Donny, calm down," Michelangelo pleaded, not knowing what else to do.

Donatello began to sob brokenly. "Why can't you just let me die?" he whimpered heartbreakingly.

And with those words hanging in the air, Donatello fell silent. Michelangelo was unable to see Leonardo walk out of the room. The blue masked turtle left the infirmary and roamed around the lair. He knew it had been a long shot, but Donatello still believed he was being haunted for letting Leonardo die. But no one let him die; it was just his time to go. Leonardo walked to the wall just outside the door of the infirmary and slid down the rough brick, burying his face in his hands.

"How can I make you see that, Don?" he asked the empty room.

Back in the infirmary, Michelangelo was trying- without luck- to get Donatello to speak. All the purple masked turtle did was sob. Michelangelo eventually gave up and went back to the chair and sat down. He wasn't sitting for even five seconds when Donatello broke his vow of silence.

"Hurts," Donatello quietly whimpered in pain, so low that Michelangelo almost missed it.

Michelangelo jumped to his feet and went to his brother's side. "What hurts, Don?" he asked worriedly.

When his brother didn't answer, Michelangelo checked to make sure Donatello was comfortable. That's when he found that Donatello was trying to relieve a cramp in his leg. Michelangelo began to massage Donatello's calf and the pain seemed to ease out of the older turtle's face. Michelangelo began to give his brother a full body massage to relieve any other cramps that may have formed. During the massage, Donatello fell soundly asleep; the first time since he had been restrained. Michelangelo's hands brushed up against the clasps that were still around his brother's bandaged wrists. He figured that Donatello was probably cramping up and in pain because he was always tied up. Michelangelo grabbed the key from a desk drawer on the other side of the room and unlocked the clasps, gently lowering Donatello's arms to the bed once he had been unshackled. He would replace the clasps before Donatello woke up and Raphael came in for his shift in the morning.

Michelangelo sat back in the chair and picked up a comic book he had brought with him. However, it wasn't very long before he joined Donatello in the realm of sleep.

* * *

Donatello slowly woke up feeling rather relaxed. Then he remembered the gentle massage Michelangelo had given him and a small smile crossed his face. The smile faded when something didn't feel right. Donatello moved his arms and found that they weren't chained to the bed rails anymore. Donatello pushed himself up and found Michelangelo fast asleep in the chair at the foot of the bed. This was his chance; he was finally free.

Donatello crawled off the bed, careful not to wake Michelangelo up and quietly hurried out of the infirmary. He went up to his room and grabbed some human clothing and some money he had hidden away from Raphael. He donned the clothes and made his way back downstairs. Not wanting to alert his sleeping brothers, Donatello headed out through the open sewer entrance of the lair. He had been planning for this for a week and he was finally able to set his plan into motion.

The purple masked turtle found a manhole and climbed the ladder to the surface. He made it topside, replacing the manhole cover and headed off in the direction he knew to be a popular human street hangout. When he arrived at the alley, Donatello felt his stomach churn with nervousness. He had only seen people do this sort of thing on TV or while on patrol; and never in a million years had guessed that he was going to do the same thing. Steeling himself, Donatello walked over to the humans hanging around in the alley. One of the men gave him a wary look.

"You lost?" he asked sharply.

"No," Donatello replied. "I believe I'm exactly where I want to be."

"You a cop?" another man growled.

Donatello shook his head. "Would a cop be looking for a fix?"

The men looked at each other before turning back to Donatello. "How much?" the first man wanted to know.

Donatello held up the small pile of bills he had collected. "How much will this get me?"

The first man took the money and counted the bills before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small bag with a number of pills in it. He tossed the bag to Donatello, who expertly caught it and stuffed it into his jacket pocket.

"You didn't get it from me," the man said

Donatello turned and walked away. "Get what?" he asked over his shoulder.

He made his way to a small convenience store and bought a bottle of water before heading back to the sewers. Donatello knew if he went back to the lair his brothers would no doubt try to stop him, so he had to choose the right place to bring his plan to fruition. He continued walking until he found himself in the tunnels leading to the underground city where he and his brothers had first met Quarry.

Donatello followed the tunnels until he found the passage to the underground city. He found a secluded house and sat down in the corner as far away from the door as he could get. He took out the bottle of water and bag of pills. It was now or never.

* * *

Raphael lay wide awake in bed. He hadn't been able to sleep since his fight with Michelangelo. Knowing that he couldn't hide forever, Raphael got up and made his way for the infirmary. When he stepped into the room he almost lost it. Michelangelo was sound asleep in the chair and Donatello was nowhere to be seen.

"Mikey!" Raphael yelled.

Michelangelo shot to his feet, thinking that they were under attack. He whirled around to see Raphael standing behind him, but the red masked turtle's eyes were on something behind him. Michelangelo slowly turned to face the bed, and to his horror it was empty. His heart sank.

"Mikey," Raphael growled dangerously. "Where's Don?"

"Oh crud," Michelangelo muttered under his breath. "He must have woken up without me knowing."

Raphael could feel his anger begin to boil over when he saw the open clasps. "You untied him."

"They were hurting him," Michelangelo said defensively.

Raphael stormed out of the infirmary with Michelangelo right behind him. The brothers headed topside to search for their missing sibling. When their search turned up nothing, they headed back into the sewers. All the while, Raphael never said a word to Michelangelo.

"I'm sorry, Raph," Michelangelo apologized the hundredth time. "I thought I was going to be up before Donny and I was going to replace the clasps."

"Are you sure you weren't just helping Donny along in his suicide attempts?" Raphael asked bitterly.

Michelangelo felt like he had been punched in the stomach, but he didn't say anything. The brothers continued their grim search, however it was met with the same results; nothing. Raphael growled and slammed his fist into the sewer wall. Michelangelo looked down at the floor and tried to put himself in Donatello's position. Where would he go if he didn't want to be disturbed? An idea hit him.

"What about the underground city?" Michelangelo suddenly asked.

Raphael looked at him confused. "What underground city?"

"The one where we first met Quarry and the others," Michelangelo replied.

Raphael took off for the tunnels, Michelangelo followed close behind him. They never stopped running until they came to the city. It was just as deserted and creepy as the first time.

"Donny?!" Raphael yelled, his voice echoing through the empty stone city.

"Don?" Michelangelo called.

"Split up," Raphael instructed.

The brothers split up to cover more ground. They searched everywhere they could think of. Michelangelo ran past a house and briefly glanced in through the window. He suddenly stopped dead in his tracks and ran back to the house. Through the window he could see Donatello curled up in the corner.

"Raph! I found him!" Michelangelo screamed at the top of his lungs.

He didn't wait for Raphael to arrive. Michelangelo ran into the house and over to his brother. Donatello made no indication that he felt his brother's presence. Michelangelo turned Donatello over. Several pills slipped from Donatello's limp hand. Just then, Raphael ran up and dropped down to his knees. He saw the pills and is heart sank.

"Oh no," he breathed out in heart wrenching misery. "Donny, NO!"

* * *

Reviews are welcome, flames are not.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N**: Thanks to Amonraphoenix and Darkunderworld for beta-ing for me. You guys rock! And thanks to everyone who has read and reviewed thus far. I'm glad you're enjoying the story.

**Disclaimer**: see chapter one

* * *

By the time Raphael and Michelangelo had managed to carry Donatello back to the lair he was barely breathing. While Raphael hooked Donatello up to the proper equipment, Michelangelo went through his brother's medical books to try to determine what sort of pills he had taken. He moaned as all the medical terminology began to hurt his brain. _Why did everything have to be so complicated? _And to make matters worse, they hadn't been around to witness the first symptoms, so determining the drug of choice was nearly impossible.

"What's the diagnosis, Mikey?" Raphael asked.

"Don't rush me!" Michelangelo yelped in a panic.

Raphael checked Donatello's vitals; his pulse was dangerously slow and getting slower by the second. "I can't give Donny the proper treatment if I don't know what he took."

Michelangelo bit back a frustrated scream. "I'm reading as fast I can," he said. He skimmed over a couple more pages. "Those pills don't look like over-the-counter pills, do they?" he asked.

"No," Raphael replied.

"That rules painkillers out…I think," Michelangelo said uncertainly.

"Mikey," Raphael urged in a warning tone.

Michelangelo turned the page and skimmed down through it. His heart sank when he read the list of possible drugs and what the symptoms of an overdose was. Since they hadn't been around to see most of the symptoms Donatello experienced, Michelangelo could only guess with the ones they were around to see.

"Raph, is it possible to get antidepressants on the street?" Michelangelo asked.

"I'm pretty sure you can get any drug on the street," Raphael replied. "Why?"

Michelangelo looked up him, his eyes wide with terror. "Because...according to this...an overdose on sedatives or antidepressants can cause a coma and eventually death," he explained.

Raphael's heart sank into the pit of his stomach. He looked down at his unconscious, possibly comatose brother. Donatello had finally done it. He had chosen the one thing he knew Raphael and Michelangelo didn't know how to counter against. They didn't know how to treat an overdose. All they could do was stand back and watch as their brother died a slow and agonizing death. Raphael didn't know whether to be sad or angry or relieved that his brother's suffering would soon be over; maybe he was all three. Michelangelo was right: For a genius, Donatello was an idiot.

"I think we should say our good-byes," Raphael said softly. "Donny probably ain't gonna make it through the night."

* * *

He had never felt so light in his entire life. It was like every burden that had been placed upon his shoulders throughout his life had somehow been lifted. Donatello looked around at the astral realm. A thick fog covered the ground and swirled around him, making it difficult to see things at a far distance.

_Is this what it's like to die?_ Donatello asked himself. _It's not as scary as I had thought it would be._

"So, here you are," came an all too familiar voice from somewhere within the fog.

Donatello turned around, searching for the source of the voice. "Leo?" he called.

Out of the fog, a figure took shape. The closer the figure came, the more details Donatello could make out. A smile touched his lips when he saw his eldest brother. However, the smile faded when he saw the look on Leonardo's face. It was a look of disappointment and sadness.

"Leo?" Donatello asked in uncertainty.

"After all this time...after so many attempts to try to reach you..." Leonardo shook his head. "I never wanted to get through to you like this."

Donatello frowned. "Get through to me? What are you talking about?"

"For the past couple of weeks I've been trying to get through to you," Leonardo said. "I've been trying to tell you that what happened to me wasn't your fault."

Donatello looked away. "It _was_ my fault, Leo. How can no one see that? I was the one operating; it was my responsibility to make sure you were stitched up correctly. Instead I missed a small tear and you ended up paying the ultimate price for my failure."

"And who pays the price for your death?" Leonardo asked, making Donatello look up at him. "You really think the problems are just going to go away when you die? They're only going to get worse, Don."

Donatello shook his head. "Raph and Mike don't have to bother with me anymore," he said. "They'll get on just fine without me."

"Is that really what you think?" Leonardo asked.

Leonardo suddenly shot forward and grabbed Donatello's shoulders, whirling him around so that he was facing what looked like a full body mirror. Donatello blinked in surprise when he saw Raphael holding a sobbing Michelangelo in his arms. They were standing beside a bed, a blanket covered form lay on top.

"What is-"

"You got your wish, Donatello," Leonardo hissed, his voice sharp and cold. "You're dead. And they've just lost two brothers in less than a month."

Fog swirled around the mirror and the scene changed. It was clear that some time had passed. It was December, a few days before Christmas, according to the calendar on the wall, but no Christmas decorations adorned the walls, which was strange considering it was one of Michelangelo's favorite times of the year, next to Halloween.

"What's going on?" Donatello asked puzzled.

"This is life after your death," Leonardo replied. "Time has moved on but Raph and Mikey haven't."

In the mirror, Donatello could see a dejected and gaunt looking Michelangelo lying on the couch, his eyes on a silent TV screen but not really paying much attention to what was happening. Raphael came out of the kitchen.

"Mikey, dinner's ready," the red masked turtle said.

Donatello frowned in confusion. "Since when did Raph start cooking?" he asked stunned.

"He's had to take on a lot of things since Mikey doesn't move from the couch," Leonardo explained.

"Mikey, dinner's ready," Raphael repeated.

"Not hungry," Michelangelo muttered.

Raphael sighed and walked over to the couch. "Mike, this isn't healthy. You've got to eat something. I can't keep hooking you up to that I.V. to get nutrients into ya."

Michelangelo turned around so that his back was facing his brother. Raphael sighed again and walked away, knowing that it was useless to try to talk Michelangelo into eating anything.

"This isn't right," Donatello stated in confusion.

"That's the understatement of the day," Leonardo said, still keeping his grip on his brother's shoulders. "What did you expect? That they would just move on as if nothing had happened? They lost their brother to a drug overdose, moron. How else were they supposed to react?"

The scene in the mirror changed again. This time is was nighttime and Michelangelo was sneaking out of the lair, dressed in light human clothing. Donatello and Leonardo watched as their baby brother walked through the sewers until he came to a particular storm grate and sat down underneath it. Donatello knew where he was. He used to watch the stars with Michelangelo under that grate. His heart began to break when Michelangelo began talking to himself as if he was talking to Donatello.

"Still think they're better off without you?" Leonardo asked.

The scene flashed back to Raphael and it looked like some time had passed since Michelangelo left the lair. Raphael headed for Michelangelo's room, but he found it empty. Thinking that his brother was already downstairs on the couch, Raphael headed downstairs; however he found the couch empty as well.

"Mikey?" Raphael called. "Mike?"

He searched the lair, but his baby brother was nowhere to be found. Raphael began to panic.

"Michelangelo!" he yelled.

He ran out into the sewers and Donatello wanted nothing more than to yell out to his brother where to find Michelangelo, but something kept him quiet. More time passed as Raphael's search became frantic as it turned up nothing. He stopped momentarily to catch his breath and gather his thoughts. Where would Michelangelo have gone? He would go somewhere where he could be close to his brother. Realization dawned on Raphael's face and he took off again. Donatello almost sighed in relief when Raphael finally found Michelangelo curled up in a ball under the grate, a light dusting of snow covered his unmoving body.

"Mikey!" Raphael exclaimed as he ran to his brother's side.

Michelangelo was mumbling incoherently in his sleep. Raphael checked his brother for injuries, but all he found was that his brother had a fever. He picked Michelangelo up and headed back towards the lair. All the while, Michelangelo muttered incoherently in his fever induced sleep. By the time Raphael stumbled into the lair, he could feel the fever burning through Michelangelo's thin clothing.

"Stay with me, Mikey," Raphael pleaded as he hurried into the infirmary.

He laid his brother on one of the cots and started removing the clothes which were now soaked through with sweat.

"Donny," Michelangelo groaned his hand reaching for something only his eyes could see.

Raphael stared down at his ailing sibling. "What do I do?" he asked to the empty room. "What do I do?"

Michelangelo coughed harshly and Raphael felt his heart break. It was clearly evident that Michelangelo was suffering from pneumonia, but Raphael didn't know how to treat it. The only one who did was currently six feet under. Raphael pulled a blanket over Michelangelo's shivering body and gave him some antibiotics before taking a seat in the chair at the foot of the bed.

Fog rolled over the mirror and Donatello felt panic rise in his stomach. However, even though his view was obstructed, his hearing was not. Raphael's cries of anguish rang through the astral realm, sending shivers down Donatello's spine. The fog rolled away to reveal a devastated Raphael holding his baby brother's lifeless body in his arms. Donatello had never heard such a sound come from his hot-headed brother or any living creature; Raphael sounded like a wounded and dying animal.

"That's right, Don," Leonardo said, picking up on Donatello's horror. "Because you weren't there Mikey never survived despite Raph's best efforts. The pneumonia was too severe. He died Christmas morning."

The fog rolled back over the mirror and Donatello closed his eyes in heartbreaking grief and looked away. "I don't want to see anymore," he pleaded softly.

"No, Donatello. You have to look. You have to see what you've done to our family," Leonardo told him.

Donatello opened his eyes and glanced up at the mirror. More time had passed and Raphael was all alone. The scene showed him training in the dojo when the phone started to ring, but Raphael ignored it. The answering machine kicked in and the message that the brothers had recorded together played before Casey's voice came through the speaker.

_"Yo, Raph, it's Casey. Listen, man, I know you're hurtin' 'n all but ya can't shut everyone out. Me 'n April are still here, 'n ain't we family, too?"_ Casey paused for a moment. _"You've got April real worried about ya. Your nightly busts have made it to the news, pal. We're worried you might get caught, or worse." _Another pause, a sigh. _"This isn't what your bros would want, Raph. I just wish you would let me 'n April help ya. If you never speak to us again it's fine, that's your choice. Just promise us this: That you won't bite off more than you can chew. So long, pal."_

Casey hung up and the lair went silent. Raphael stopped his katas and panted for breath. His skin was coated in a thin layer of sweat. Raphael walked over to the wall and picked up a towel, wiping the sweat from his face. He headed out of the dojo and went over to the phone. He replayed Casey's message and listened to it as he went into the kitchen to get a drink of water. Raphael considered calling Casey, but he wasn't in the mood to talk to anyone at the moment. Placing the empty glass in the sink, Raphael headed for the elevator.

"What's he doing?" Donatello asked as he watched Raphael disappear into the elevator before the fog returned to the mirror.

"After Mikey died Raph became berserk," Leonardo explained. "He's put most of the gangs and Foot ninjas in jail or in the ground, but he doesn't care if he's seen by other people or if he lives; he's lost everything that ever mattered to him."

"Please tell me it's over," Donatello begged his eldest brother. "Please say there's no more."

"I'm afraid there's a lot more to see, Donny," Leonardo told him sadly.

The fog lifted and Donatello's heart sank when the scene showed Raphael in the middle of a fierce battle with the Foot clan. He was dangerously outnumbered and it looked like the Foot had gained the upper hand in the fight; but Raphael raged on. Donatello's eyes widened in horror when he saw a Foot ninja come up behind his brother with a knife.

"Raphie, behind you!" the purple masked turtle instinctively yelled.

But, Raphael never turned around; he never saw the knife coming. He screamed in pain as the blade was plunged deep into his side before it was pulled out again. Raphael collapsed to the ground. As one, the Foot ninjas ran off, leaving the turtle for dead. Raphael groaned in pain as he pushed himself up. Donatello watched in silent terror as his brother stumbled his way back to the lair, leaving a trail of crimson behind him.

Raphael staggered over to the couch and fell down onto the cushions. He panted for breath, but never did anything to try to stop the bleeding. Raphael reached over the arm rest and played back Casey's message. As it played through, Raphael picked up a picture of his family from the coffee table and stared at it, smiling at the happy memories that came to mind. His eyes began to drift closed.

_"I just wish you would let me 'n April help ya. If you never speak to us again it's fine, that's your choice. Just promise us this: That you won't bite off more than you can chew..."_

Raphael's hand went limp and the picture fell to the floor and shattered as the last turtle went to see his family.

_"So long, pal."_

* * *

Reviews are welcome, flames are not


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N**: Thanks to Amonraphoenix and Darkunderworld for beta-ing for me. Alas, I am sad to say that this story is winding down. One more chapter to go.

**Disclaimer**: see chapter one

* * *

Donatello stared disbelievingly at the mirror. This couldn't be happening; his brothers couldn't be dead. He turned around to look at Leonardo who had moved off to the side. Leonardo had his back turned to his brother; his head dipped low as grief and loss overwhelmed the young leader. Donatello looked from Leonardo's stricken form to the mirror, then back to his brother. He was at a loss for words. What could he possibly say now? "I'm sorry" wasn't going to cut it, not by a long shot. Raphael and Michelangelo had died because of him; because he couldn't get past his grief and self-pity over Leonardo's tragic and sudden death.

"Still think Raph and Mike were better off without you?" Leonardo asked wretchedly with thick bitterness lacing the words.

Donatello didn't answer; how could he? He had indirectly killed their brothers. Donatello closed his eyes in shame as tears began to burn their way down his cheeks. Leonardo turned around to look at his brother, his eyes soft and sad. Taking pity on his younger brother, Leonardo walked over and embraced Donatello in a loving hug that was quickly returned. Donatello then buried his face into Leonardo's shoulder and wept.

"There's still time," Leonardo said softly into Donatello's ear. "You can still make things right."

"How?" Donatello choked out, his voice cracking with emotion. "How can anything right come out of this? This happened because I let you die. Why did you have to die?"

"Donny…" Leonardo began.

Donatello shook his head. "I could have saved you," he whispered miserably.

Leonardo pulled away from his brother a bit and looked down at him, a smile crossing his face. "Then save me," he whispered.

Donatello frowned in confusion as his brother began to fade. "Save you?"

"Save me," Leonardo repeated.

_"Donny,"_ Michelangelo's ghostly voice echoed through the astral realm. _"Donny."_

Donatello looked around for the source of his brother's voice. "Mikey?" He turned to see Leonardo walking away from him. "Leo, wait. Where are you going!"

"Save me, Donny," Leonardo called over his shoulder. "Save me, save yourself, save Raph and Mike."

"Save you? Save you how?" Donatello asked confused at what Leonardo was talking about.

Leonardo looked over his shoulder and smiled. "It's not too late, you still have time."

_"Donny!"_ Michelangelo yelled frantically.

* * *

Donatello's eyes flew open and he gasped for air. He panted for breath as he looked around to find himself in the infirmary instead of the astral realm. Dazed and confused, Donatello managed to catch his breath and moaned in pain. He looked up to see Michelangelo staring down at him, a worried look shining in his blue eyes.

"Is he up, yet?" Raphael's voice sounded from behind a curtain to Donatello's left.

"He just woke up," Michelangelo answered.

It was then that Donatello noticed that Michelangelo was wearing one of the surgeon's outfits that he had salvaged.

"What's going on?" Donatello asked groggily.

"You've been out cold for twenty minutes, at least," Michelangelo hastily explained.

"I need help over here!" Raphael yelled anxiously.

Donatello pushed himself up and off the cot. He felt as if he had just awoken from some horrible nightmare that still danced, fluttered and teased him at the very edges of his consciousness. Shaking the feeling and the dream off he quickly began getting into his scrubs and washing his hands, preparing for surgery. When he was dressed and cleaned, Donatello went over to the other side of the curtain to find Raphael trying to stop the blood that was pouring out of Leonardo's side. Donatello quickly took Raphael's place and pulled away the white gauze that had been soaked through with bright crimson. Taking more gauze he deftly wiped away at the blood, trying to figure out the best approach to close the horrific wounds that had been inflicted upon Leonardo by the explosion. Quickly and efficiently he began to repair the damage, closing the laceration and applying more gauze to stop the now slower trickle of blood that was still escaping Leonardo's body.

Finally finishing with the internal damage, Donatello was about to stitch Leonardo's side up when something in the back of his mind stayed his hand and screamed at him to examine all of his sutures as well as a laceration that had come perilously close to severing a major vein near his liver. Donatello followed his inner warning and sure enough, there was a tiny tear on the underside of the right hepatic artery that led to the liver. He felt his heart speed up and adrenalin run thickly across his skin at the thought of almost closing Leonardo up, the tear slowly spilling blood into his brother's abdomen where he would have silently bled to death. He carefully repaired the tear and stitched up his brother's side.

"It's done," Donatello breathed out in tired relief.

Michelangelo poked his head around the curtain. "So, Leo's going to make it right?" he asked timidly.

Donatello nodded in confirmation. "Yes, Mikey," he answered. "Leo's going to make it."

Michelangelo whooped and did a little dance around the infirmary, making Raphael and Donatello smile. However, Donatello's smile faded as he looked down at Leonardo's still, sleeping face.

Had all of that just been a nightmare? A figment of his imagination? It had felt so real. But here he was with all of his brothers alive and well. Twenty minutes, Michelangelo had said. He had been unconscious for just twenty minutes, but it had been at least a month in his nightmare.

"Yo, Donny, you still with us?" Raphael asked.

Donatello looked up at his red masked brother. How could he possibly begin to tell his brothers what he had experienced? Nothing could ever come close to the pain he had felt over letting his siblings die. But, none of them were dead; and that was the way it was going to be, as long as Donatello had breath in his body. He wasn't going to be the cause of his brothers' demise. As long as there was breath in his body, Donatello would fight to keep each and every one of his brothers alive.

"Earth to, Donny?" Michelangelo asked waving a hand in front of his face.

Donatello blinked and was slammed back into reality, but was unable to meet his inquiring brother's eyes. Without saying a word to either Michelangelo or Raphael, Donatello walked away, pulling off the bloody surgery clothes as he went, throwing them into the hamper on his way out of the infirmary. Raphael and Michelangelo looked at each other and gave each other a shrug. Raphael wrapped up Leonardo's side and with Michelangelo's help, moved Leonardo to a clean bed.

"What do you think is wrong with Donny?" Michelangelo asked as Raphael pulled a thick blanket over Leonardo's unconscious form.

Raphael shrugged. "He could still be a bit shaken from the explosion," he suggested.

"I don't know," Michelangelo said. "He seemed surprised to see us for some reason."

Raphael began removing his blood soaked clothing. "I'm sure he's fine, Mike," he reassured his brother. "Donny's just shaken from the explosion. We'd be shaken, too, if we had a building dropped on our heads; not to mention perform lifesaving surgery on your big brother, just after you woke up."

Michelangelo thought about his brother's words and nodded. "Yeah," he agreed. "I guess you're right."

* * *

Donatello sat in a chair and watched over Leonardo's sleeping form. He still couldn't believe that he had been unconscious for a mere twenty minutes. How could he have experienced all of that pain, misery and anguish in such a short amount of time? Donatello looked down at his wrists. The skin was smooth and unblemished. He had never taken a knife to his wrists, had never tried to drown himself on alcohol, and had never overdosed on antidepressants; it had all been one giant, horrific nightmare.

"How could it have been nothing more than a nightmare?" Donatello asked softly. "It was all too real. I can still taste the alcohol on my tongue, the sharpness of the knife on my skin, the heart shattering pain of losing each of my brothers. It was too real not to be real." Tears began to burn his eyes as he continued to watch Leonardo sleep. "Yet here you are, very much alive. And Raph and Mikey, too. We're all here, together and whole." Donatello blinked and tears ran down his cheeks. "I'm so sorry," he whispered miserably.

"For what?" came a soft inquiring voice.

Donatello looked up to see Raphael standing in the doorway of the infirmary. The purple masked brother looked away as Raphael sat down on the cot on the other side of Leonardo's bed.

"What are you sorry for?" Raphael asked gently.

"It's nothing," Donatello replied quietly.

"Donny," Raphael began stubbornly.

Donatello closed his eyes and fresh tears ran down his face. "It was just a dream, no, a horrible nightmare," he whispered.

Before Raphael could say anything, Donatello got up and left the infirmary. Raphael sighed as he watched his brother leave. He turned to look at Leonardo.

"I've got an uneasy feeling about Donny, Leo," the red masked turtle said to his unconscious brother. "He hasn't been himself since he woke up. I feel like he's slippin' into a dark part of his mind and I can't pull him out." He sighed and shifted on his feet. "You need to wake up soon, Leo. Donny needs you more than he needs me and Mike."

* * *

Reviews are welcome, flames are not


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